one dance
by floresque
Summary: Out of all the ladies here tonight, he finds his eyes only drawn to her. [1940s au]


**summary: **Out of all the ladies here tonight, he finds his eyes only drawn to her. [1940s au]

**rating: **PG

**disclaimer: **i don't own marvel

**author's notes: **i thought of this while listening to "one dance" by drake lol. i'm really trying to bring some content before the year ends. i probably won't be successful, but enjoy loves!

* * *

"You're not dancing," Steve calls over the blaring music.

"I know."

"Wanna tell me why?"

Bucky shrugs. "No reason."

Steve hums with a smirk, taking a seat next to him. "And you're sure it has nothing to do with her?"

"With who?" Bucky turns to his friend, eyebrows furrowed.

Steve rolls his eyes, and points to the crowd of dancing people. "Her! The brunette you've been staring at all night."

Oh.

He…hadn't noticed he was staring for _that_ long. He remembers sitting down to rest, seeing her walk in with a redhead, not being able to take his eyes off her scarlet dress, long wavy brown hair, angelic smile – now that he actually thinks about it, he's said no to every lady who asked him to dance tonight since she came.

"Buck!" Steve pointedly waves a hand in front of his face.

"Yeah?" he blinks, returning his attention back to his friend. Steve looks at him as if he's lost his mind.

"You ever thought of – I dunno, asking her for a dance?" Steve says it so matter of factly that Bucky almost goes over to the girl to do exactly that.

"But she might say no," he protests, catching himself before he does something risky.

"C'mon, since when are _you _afraid of women? That's my job."

"Yeah, I know," he sighs, his eyes falling to the table. Steve elbows his arm.

"Quit mopin' jerk – look, she's going to the bar." Bucky shoots his head up and his eyes scan the room to find her. "Now are you gonna go offer her a dance or sit here all night?"

"Now what's taking so long, soldier?" A woman's voice calls out (it was the redhead who the girl had walked in with) as she stalks up to their table. Bucky's jaw drops slightly as he realizes she was talking to Steve.

"Sorry," Steve says, smiling sheepishly as his hand rubs the back of his neck nervously. "I'm just helping my friend Bucky over here. Buck, this is Natasha." He dips his head in greeting.

"Hi," Bucky says, puzzled, and he turns to Steve. "Have you been with her this whole time?"

The blonde rolls his eyes. "Well you would've known if you hadn't been staring at her friend all night."

"My _friend?_" Natasha inquires, arching an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. Steve nods, inclining his head to the bar where the girl is.

"Yeah, he wants to ask your brunette friend to dance, but he's being difficult." Bucky's cheeks flush in slight embarrassment. This has never happened to him – ever. Usually it was the other way around.

"Oh, Wanda?" The redhead asks – _God, _even her name sounds pretty. "You should ask her! She never says no to a dance." But she _might _say no to him.

"See, Buck? She won't say no – besides, I've never seen you nervous when you asked other dames."

"Because I wasn't, but she's…different?" he defends weakly, and he already knows he's lost the argument.

"How would you know if you didn't ask her yet?" Natasha shoots back wryly, a hint of a smirk spreading across her lips. Bucky doesn't have an answer.

He sighs, rolling his eyes, and raises his hands in surrender. "Alright, fine. I'll ask her."

"Finally, jerk." Steve breathes out with excitement.

Bucky huffs, and pushes himself out of his chair over to the bar. He mentally goes through a list of pickup lines while trying not to trip over himself – _left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot—_

"Are you lost ma'am?" he asks as he slides onto the bar stool, and the girl – _Wanda_ – turns her emerald green eyes to his, question in her gaze. "'Cause heaven's a long way from here."

The whole room seems to still as he awaits her reaction, and when she lets out a laugh – a melodic sound that fills (blesses) his eardrums, overpowering the music in the background – his breath catches in his throat.

"I'm sure that works on all the girls, yes?" she asks, and Bucky finds himself so entranced by her accent that he almost forgets to respond.

"Only girl it needs to work on is you, doll," he replies, grinning. Her little smile turns into this bright beam, and she averts her gaze.

"You know, you're pretty smooth for someone who looks like they were about to throw up on their way over here."

Bucky breathes out a laugh as he combs his fingers through his hair – she watches the movements. "Yeah, well, a pretty girl like you's bound to turn some heads and trip some feet."

"There are a lot of girls here," she reminds him, looking around the room filled with dancing people, and of course he knows this. But none of them seem to have her energy – her _brightness. _

"There are," he agrees, and a grin lingers on his face, "but they aren't you."

Her smile widens and she tilts her head, eyes studying him curiously. "You don't even know me."

"True – but I guess I should start somewhere, yeah?"

"Yeah." She shifts in her seat so she better faces him.

"So," Bucky drawls, leaning an arm against the bar counter. "Does the angel have a name?" He knows it of course, but he wants to hear it from her.

A rosy blush tints her cheeks, and she moves a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Wanda Maximoff," she answers, and he decides that he loves her accent. "Does the flirt have a name?" she arches an eyebrow, and he chuckles.

"James Barnes – well, only my Ma' calls me by my first name, but people call me Bucky."

"I like James," she says with a thoughtful smile, and he feels his heartbeat stutter hearing his name roll off her tongue. Normally he doesn't allow anyone to call him by his first name. But like he told Steve – she's different.

He doesn't know how, but she is.

"Thanks, doll." Bucky turns his head to see Steve making a "go on" motion with his hands – and mouthing the words. He clears his throat and tries not to fidget. "Would you, uh, like to dance? You don't have to if you don't want to, we could stay here if you don't feel like it, I don't mind, I mean—"

"James," she places a soft hand over his. "Of course I'll dance with you."

Bucky breathes out a relieved sigh. "Good, I thought I was gonna have to keep rambling."

"Wow, charming _and _cunning; rare package." He lets out a chuckle as he stands.

"If I may, your angel-ness." Bucky holds out an arm with playful grin, and she takes it with a laugh as she hops off the bar stool.

Bucky leads her over to the dance floor, and he spins her so she faces him. The golden lighting makes her skin glow and green eyes sparkle, and he feels his heart tug in his chest. He knows he's staring, but he doesn't care – he thinks she's letting him do it anyway.

"We dance, yes?" Wanda takes her hand in his. Bucky catches Steve's smug grin and thumbs up from where he's dancing with Natasha, and he draws his gaze back to her.

"Yeah, doll," he says, looking down at her breathtaking smile as he intertwines their fingers. "For as long as you want."

* * *

**fin. **


End file.
